Charlotte in Otherworld
by Of-Ravens-And-Writing-Desks
Summary: What if Alice stayed in Wonderland? What if she had kids? This is the story of Alice's daughter, Charlotte, and her adventure to save Alice from the Otherworld. Characters from Starlight623's fic "Marriage is Just an Adventure into madness"
1. Worries and Warmth

A/N: This, believe it or not, is a fanfic of a fanfic: "Marriage is Just an Adventure into Madness" by the ever-talented Starlight623 (So it might be helpful to read that first... jus' sayin'...)

About a month ago, I had a dream about Starlight623's character Charlotte. I was describing it to one of my friends, and she encouraged me to write it all down & finish the story. It all snowballed from there. Now, three weeks and 4 chapters later, I'm still coming up with ideas. So bare with me guys, here's chapter one.

Charlotte and William Hightopp are the property of Starlight623 (I'm just stealing them for a while...)

Alice in Wonderland belongs to the creative genius that is Tim Burton. Oh, and that one company, you know, the one with the mouse... :]

* * *

It all began the night Alice left.

Well, I suppose it really all began the day that Hatter got terribly, dreadfully sick, but we're getting ahead of ourselves...

_If you had been there that night, you would have seen a very strange sight indeed, well, at least, strange by the standards of the Otherworld, but in Underland, I'd say that this occurrence was downright normal._

_They stood in front of the looking-glass, the four of them huddled in the cool darkness that constantly surrounded the castle._

_"Are you sure about this, Alice?"_

_In any other situation, she might have rolled her eyes. People needed to understand that she had always been sure, from the moment that she had married her Hatter; she would do anything to save him. Anything. She nodded slowly, putting on a brave face._

_"I'm sure, Mirana. This is the only way."_

_"But the children..."_

_"I'm leaving them in the excellent care of my best friend." Alice knelt down on the floor and held out her arms. "Come here, darlings." Two crying children ran into her arms, clutching at their mother with all of their strength. "Oh, my little loves, please don't cry," said their mother, fighting back tears of her own, "I'll be back before you know it."_

_"Oh mummy, can't we please come with you?" asked the girl, the eldest of the Hightopp children at age thirteen._

_"Yes, mama!" cried the little boy, who was only seven ("-and a half!" as he would often interject), "Please take us with you!"_

_"Not this time, Will." She had gone to great lengths to make sure that the children didn't know just how dangerous this trip to the Otherworld could be. The disease had reached epidemic proportions, and she could not risk the rest of her family getting sick._

_"Charlotte?" She asked, kneeling at eye-level with her daughter, "You must be the woman of the house now that I'm leaving, alright? You must take care of Will."_

_The girl nodded silently, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I will, mummy."_

_Alice looked once more into both of their eyes, then gave them each another hug and kiss on the cheek. "Fairfarren, my loves." She whispered, untangling herself from their clinging arms. "Mirana? If anything should happen to me..."_

_"You don't need to say it, Alice. I'll make sure they are well taken-care of here. Just hurry back. Underland needs its champion."_

_Alice nodded once and bent to scoop up her bags. "I shall return as soon as I can. A few weeks perhaps, a month at the most." She adjusted her hat and took a steadying breath, sending the children one last tearful smile before stepping through the dark mirror..._

* * *

"No mum don't go!" shouted Charlotte, springing up and out of her bed. She spun around, orange hair flying everywhere, confused. "Mum?" she whispered, squinting to see in the dark room. She ran, tripping in her haste, to her desk, where she knocked over a now-cold cup of tea rummaging around for a match. When she had found one, she scurried over to her bedside table and lit a candle, holding it up so its light flooded the room. She was alone.

"Just a dream, Lottie... just a dream..." she whispered, putting the candle back and returning to her bed. Gathering her knees up to her chest, she blinked back tears. She had had this dream almost every night for the last three years, and she always had the same reaction; waking up screaming in the middle of the night, not being able to fall back asleep for hours, then collapsing with exhaustion when the sun finally rose. This cycle had worn on ever since Alice's departure to the Otherworld, and it didn't show any sign of stopping. Charlotte knew she worried her friends, but there was nothing she could do. She just wanted her parents back.

"You're sixteen years old, Lottie, stop being such a baby," she scolded herself, sitting up straight. She brought a shaking hand up to her head and tried to smooth down her fly-away curls. At least I'm not breaking things anymore, she mused. At least that's some progress, and all without that potion Auntie Mirana tries to make me drink! Or that nasty cake-stuff she made me eat once...

As she was mulling over all the attempts that had been made to bring her back from the brink on insanity, a knock came at the door. "...Lottie?" a timid voice asked from the door frame, "can I come in?"

Charlotte's focus abruptly snapped back to the present. "Will?"

"Yes," he said, pushing open the door a tiny bit. He was still quite small for a ten-year-old, and came to Lottie's room in the castle whenever he had a bad dream or wanted to ask her a question. Sometimes these things simply could not wait until the morning to be discussed.

"Come in," She said, shifting over so he could sit next to her in bed. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and ran to her bed, scrambling to sit up next to her.

"What is it, Will?"

"I heard you shouting again."

She sighed. Apparently she hadn't done a well enough job sound-proofing her room. She made a mental note to work on that later, then promptly forgot about it.  
"Are... are you okay?" asked the little boy, wondering if he should be comforting his sister.  
"I'm perfectly fine, Will," She said, jumping up to a standing position on top of the bed. She grabbed his hand and yanked him up as well, and began jumping up and down on the covers. "Fit as a fiddle!"  
Will giggled, and soon they were both full out laughing, bashing each other with pillows, and certainly making enough noise to wake the whole castle up.  
After a few minutes of this, they both collapsed onto the now-untidy bed, tears of mirth streaming down their faces.  
"Shhh..." Shushed Charlotte with a finger over her lips, trying to stifle back her own laughter.  
Will nodded, biting down on his knuckle, the occasional giggle escaping his lips. Charlotte draped a sisterly arm over his scrawny shoulders, pulling him in for a hug.  
"See? I'm alright. I just miss mum and dad, That's all."  
The younger Hightopp instantly sobered, snuggling in closer. "Do you think mum's alright?"  
Charlotte thought over this for a second, then nodded. "Mum's alright, Will. In fact, she's better than alright! She's probably back on her way to Underland right now with the cure for Daddy's sickness. Then we'll be a right proper family again!"  
Their father was very sick indeed. One day, he had been making hats as always, humming happily to himself, the next, he was bed-ridden, unable to stand on his own and fading ever faster into the madness. The White Queen had tried potion after potion, cure after cure, but nothing had worked. She eventually gave up, relinquishing to the fact that this was an above-land sickness, and they would just have to wait until the royal hatter got better.  
He didn't.  
It had now been three years since Tarrant had fallen sick. He was cooped up in the highest tower of Marmoreal, and the children had not been allowed to see him, because he could be contagious. After Alice had gone to the Otherworld to try to find the cure for Hatter's mysterious illness, the looking-glass had also been placed in that room, and the doors were guarded day in and day out.

At first, Charlotte and Will had gone on numerous "adventures" to the tower, trying to get in to see their father, but their path had been barred every time. Eventually, they stopped trying to force their way in, and decided to wait. Their mother would be back soon, and everything would be made better. But soon, weeks faded to months, and months to years. Charlotte was now a young woman, and Will wasn't a little boy anymore. They had lived in the castle for these three years, under the care of Mally, Thackery, and The White Queen, waiting for the return of both their parents.

"C'mon, Will." Charlotte said, moving to get under the covers. "Let's sleep. How 'bout I tell you a story?"

Will sleepily crawled under the covers next to his big sister, nestling into her side. "Yes, please..."

She pulled the blankets around them both, smoothing down his wavy blond hair. "'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." she whispered, quoting the poem their father used to recite to them when they were younger, "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch... Will?"

But the youngest Hightopp was already asleep, his head bobbing against her ribcage. Charlotte smiled, the sighed, leaning over to blow out the candle. Yes, something had to be done to fix their family.

But what?

* * *

Cliff hanger! DUH DUH DUUUUHHHHHHH

Couple of notes:

Fairfarren means "Farewell, May you travel far under fair skies"

The 'story' that Charlotte tells Will is "The Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carrol. Tarrant quotes this same passage in the movie as he and Alice are on their way to Marmoreal.

Reviews would be much appreciated, thanks everyone!


	2. Midnight and Miracles

A/N: Alice in wonderland belongs to disney, and as always, Charlotte and Will belong to the lovely Starlight 623

* * *

"-and that is why buttered fingers should never be substituted for... Charlotte? Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm?" Charlotte was slumped over in her chair, morosely stirring her tea. She was in the kitchen, having her weekly potions lesson from the Queen, but just couldn't find the energy to concentrate today. She glanced up from her teacup and smiled with false sweetness at her mother's best friend. "Yes, Auntie Mirana?" she asked, batting her eyelashes in innocence.

This earned a reproving glare from the monarch. "Pay attention, Lottie. This is important."

"Can't we learn about mercury?" she asked, straightening up, "I could use it for my ha-"  
"No, Charlotte." Mirana interrupted. "You know how your father feels about that subject. You are not even allowed in his workshop without him present, and you most certainly not allowed to touch the mercury."  
The adolescent slouched back down, deflated, and resumed the absent-minded stirring of her tea. "It's been three years since he said that..." she pouted, jutting out her bottom lip. Her father was never particularly happy that Charlotte had the same knack for hat making that he did. He would much rather have her put her talent to dress-making or weaving, anything that didn't involve chemicals. He was afraid that she working with the mercury would drive her to madness, just as it had for him.

Both Charlotte and her mother had tried to convince him that this was silly, that the mercury wasn't the only reason for the madness, but he would have none of it. "Leave the hat making to me, Buttercup," he would often say, ruffling her hair, "I'm already completely bonkers."

"But all the best people are, papa!" She would insist, grabbing onto his arm. "Please?"  
"Not today, Sweetness," And with that, he would take off to the workshop, leaving behind a disappointed little girl.  
"Yes, and he hasn't said anything the contrary since," said Mirana, interrupting Lottie's thoughts. "Your father cares a great deal for you, and you must honor that by doing as he says."  
Charlotte sighed, running a hand through her flame-orange hair. "I... I miss him, Auntie Mirana. It's like he died, everyone talks about his as if he did, and now mother, too. I need to do something. I need... I need my parents back." She choked up on her last words, tears beginning to stream down her face. The Queen dropped the buttered fingers she was holding back into their jar and rushed around the counter, gathering the young woman into her arms.  
"Shhh... It's alright, darling, let it all out." she whispered, stroking her hair.

Charlotte coughed out a few sobs, then looked up at the older woman, her blue eyes running over. "Can... can I please go see him?"

Mirana wrapped her arms tighter around her, shutting her own eyes. "Lottie, you know I can't do that. It's just too dangerous."

"I don't care!" Charlotte sniffed, shaking her head back and forth. "He's the only father I have, even though Landrew has been like a father to me for the last few months, and I suppose that you could say the both Chess and Mally have been too, but considering Mally's a girl, that doesn't really make much sense, though you know with the changing times and all she could-"

"Charlotte!"

The young hattress breathed again. "Thank you," she whispered, blushing. She had inherited the tendency to ramble from a certain Mad Hatter, and though she loved everything about him, she wished he had kept that trait to himself.

"In time, Lottie. All good things in time. We can't do anything but wait for now, but your mother will be back before you know it, and then we'll all be a proper family again, yes?" After receiving a weak nod from the still-moody teen, the queen clapped her hands and stood up. "Well, I think we've had quite enough of potions for now. Let's see if we can't find Lily and Will and have a late lunch."

And with that, the queen swept out of the room, leaving Charlotte sitting alone in the kitchen. She sighed, sliding her stool back to stand up. She crossed the floor to the window on the other side of the room. "If you won't do something," she whispered, pressing her fingers against the cool glass, "I will."

* * *

"So... what are we doing again?"  
"I told you! We're going to see dad."  
Charlotte and Will were trekking through the castle, a single torch their only source of light. Charlotte had whispered to Will during teatime that he was to meet her outside her chambers at midnight, and they were to go on an adventure.

Naturally, his curiosity had prevailed over sleepiness, and he dutifully appeared, torch in hand, to Charlotte's room at the stroke of twelve. When he knocked, she had hastily opened the door and pulled him in, hissing at him to be quiet. After briefing him about their mission, she had slung a rucksack over her shoulder and taken the torch from him, ready to head out on an expedition. Since then, they had been silently scurrying through Marmoreal, hiding from imaginary adversaries.

"Oh." Will scratched his head, trying to think at this late hour. "If we're only going to see dad, why are you dressed up?"

"I am not!" She was wearing one of her mother's Otherworld-ian dresses, with her hair all pinned up into a hat her father had made her to look like his own. "I just... never got changed from supper..."

"You didn't wear that to supper!" He accused, his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Shh! You'll wake the whole castle!" Charlotte nervously glanced side to side, worried that a guard would spring out at any moment. "Now, let me tell you how we're going to get past the guards."

"There's going to be _guards_?" He squeaked, his voice shooting up though two octaves.

"Don't worry about it," She said, ruffling his messy blond hair, sporting a smile wide enough to rival Chess', "I've got a plan..."

* * *

"WAHHH!"  
The child's piteous wails could be heard around the castle. The two soldiers (one bishop, one rook) standing guard in front of the sick room looked at each other, unsure of what to do. The wails were close, but they didn't know if the child was in any real danger or not.  
"WAHHH! WAAAAAAAHHHH!"  
With a shrug apiece, the soldiers started down the long, winding stairs that lead to the top of the North Tower. The wailing sound grew louder and louder, until they finally found the source: William Hightopp. The ten-year-old little boy was sitting at the bottom of the stairwell, his right green eyes flowing with tears. The giant chess pieces looked cautiously around, looking for the source of his distress. Seeing no immediate danger, they both stepped down from the final stair, coming to the aid of the small child.  
"William?" The bishop asked, stooping down to the boy's level, "What's wrong, William?"  
"I-I-I fell. I was looking for my hat... and-and I fell down the stairs. My leg _hurrrrttss._.."  
The bishop sighed, shaking his head at the antics of the youngest Hightopp. "Come along, Master William," he said, reaching for his hand. "I'll take you-" *thud*  
With that, the bishop fell to the floor, having being knocked in the back of the head by a frying-pan weilding Charlotte.

Run!" she shouted, turning and sprinting up the stairs, her brother following close behind. The rook looked from children to bishop, confused. What had just happened? After a moment, he drew his sword and charged up the stairs after the Hightopps.

Charlotte and Will ran faster and faster, reaching the top in record time. They threw open the door, locking it behind them, and just in time, for the guard slammed into the door just as they turned the lock.

They turned around, panting, and were met by a piteous sight.

Their father lay in a bed in the center of the room, his rattling breath making his skinny chest rise up and down. He was bone-thin, his normally pale skin even whiter, all the color gone from his cheeks. The white sheets dwarfed him, and the flickering light from the fireplace on the other side of the room made him look transparent, almost ghostly.

"D-d-daddy?" Charlotte whispered, timidly crossing to his bed, "Dad?"

Will clung to her arm, his green eyes wide with shock and fear. "Charlotte, are you sure this is a good idea?"

She shushed him, carefully reaching out to take the hand of her father. She remembered his hands as so strong, so nimble, always moving or fiddling with something. Now they were motionless, thin bones displayed through the dye-stained skin. she placed the withered hand to her cheek, tears forming in her eyes.

Will cocked his head to one side, considering the motionless man. "What can we do?"

"I'll tell you," say Charlotte, gently replacing her father's hand on the mattress and wiping her cheeks, "I'm going to go find mother."

Her brother whipped around to face her, shock registering on his face. "You can't do that!"

"And why not? Mama put me in charge, and I can do what I please."

"But how will you get there? And how will you come back?"

She grabbed his small shoulders and gently turned him around, steering them until the were both standing in front of their mother's looking glass.

"Charlotte..." Will whined, not liking where this was going. "Momma said never to touch that unless she or daddy was here with us."

"And daddy is here," she said, jerking her head back towards the bed. "Will, we don't have much time." As if on cue, there was a great clatter on the other side of the door, the guards trying to unlock it without a key.

"Listen." She bent her knees so she was the same eye level as him. "I'm going to go to the Otherworld, get mother from wherever she is, find the cure, and be back before you know it. Hey, no tears," she whispered tenderly, wiping her brother's wet cheeks.

"Momma said she would be back soon too," he sniffed, staring decidedly at the floor. Charlotte put a finger under his chin and tilted it up so he was looking her in the eye.

"You have my word as a Hightopp, I will be back in two weeks, or less."

The boy nodded then wrapped his arms around his sister's neck. "Come back soon, Lottie. Auntie Mirana will be very cross."

She mentally winced, thinking of just how cross her godmother would be. "Don't fret, bean," she said, using her father's nickname for Will, "Auntie Mirana dosn't think we're capable of doing anything wrong." She let out a low chuckle, then embraced him once more. She straightened, and slung the rucksack over her shoulder. "Wish me luck, baby brother," she said, taking another step towards the looking glass.

"I love you, Lottie," he said plainly, offering a little wave and smile.

She smiled back, forcing her fears further down in the pit of her stomach. "I love you too, Will." With that, she took a steadying breath and stepped through the cool glass.

* * *

A/N: Thankyou for reading! Chapter three is coming, slowly but surely, then it should be a breeze from there.

If you spot any inconsitancies or if some thing's a little off, PLEASE tell me. The urge to write usually hits me when I'm only half-consience, so... *shrugs*

Please R/R!

-O.R.A.W.D.


	3. Manics and Muchness

A/N: Alice in Wonderland belongs to that place with the mouse, and as always, Charlotte and Will belong to the lovely Starlight623

* * *

Charlotte was met with a face-full of wood splinters and a lung-full of ashes. Coughing, she looked around her. She had stepped out of the mirror and into a broken pile of wood and glass, with twisted spires of metal jutting out of the wreckage like quills on a porcupine. She blinked in the harsh sunlight, trying to get her bearings. It had been midnight in Underland, so the sudden brightness was startling.

"He-hello?" she whispered, trying to make sense of all that was lying around her, "HELLO?" She slowly stood up, (for the mirror had been hanging upside down from a rafter, you see,) and brushed the dirt and ash off of her now-ruined dress. She didn't understand, the mirror was supposed to be in her grandmother's house. Why was it in this old burnt-out mansion?

She wandered aimlessly through the remains, reviewing the plan in her head. Since she was obviously not in her grandmother's house, she would have to find it, and then proceed from there. Easy.

Then something under her foot broke with a loud crunch, causing her to look down. It was a teapot. The teapot that Charlotte had given to her grandmother when the old lady had turned sixty. With a gasp, she squatted down and scooped up the broken china, cradling it to her chest.

"Grandmother?" she whispered, realization dawning on her. This _was_ her grandmother's house. It must had been destroyed in a fire, and Charlotte had no idea where her family was, or if they were even alive. She shuddered at the thought. No, they're alive, she thought. They have to be.

So where were they? She rummaged around in the ashes, hoping to find a further clue to her family's whereabouts. It was then that she noticed the man.

He was standing at the end of the long walk that led to the charred remains of the old house. His head was cocked to one side, as if he had heard a strange noise and was pausing to see if it would sound again.

She cursed under her breath and crouched lower into the ashes, praying to every deity she could think of that he would not discover her, but as luck would have it, she lost her balance and landed with a crunch on a stack of broken teacups (to go with he teapot, of course.) She cursed again, wincing at the harsh sound.

"Hello?" questioned the man, stepping closer to the ruins. "Is anyone there?"

Charlotte tried to evaporate.

It didn't work.

"Hello?" said the man again, wandering closer.

With a sigh, Charlotte straightened up and brushed the remaining soot off her dress, plastering a Cheshire smile on her face. "Why hello there! Fancy meeting someone else way out here. And here I thought I was the only one who liked exploring, ahem, things."

The man stared at her for a while, his head still tilted in thought. She stared owlishly back, her copper curls rustling in the breeze.

"Are you a ghost?" he asked, twirling his hat in his hands.

Charlotte paused for a moment. "Well," she stated plainly, "I suppose I could be one, for who else would reside in a haunted house? Logically, I must be a ghost. Lucky for you, not to mention myself, I made the decision to ignore logic whenever possible a long time ago, so, for the time being, I am not, in fact, a ghost. My name is Charlotte Hightopp, daughter of Lord and Lady Hightopp, and heir to the title of royal hatter, if my father ever decides to impart it upon me, but no! The mercury's much too dangerous he says, you'll go mad, he says! But that is an entirely different story. Ah, but now I'm rambling. You see, back home I usually have someone to stop me, but here in right proper England no one would dare interrupt a lady, so not I'm stuck forever, blathering on and on until someone has the muchness to-"

"My name is Jacob." the young man interjected, giving her a small bow, "Jacob DeQuincey at your service."

She grinned and half-chuckled tocover up the awkwardness.

Barely even out of Wonderland and already sticking out like a sore thumb, she thought to herself. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Jacob DeQuincey, even if it is under such circumstances."

He nodded, still trying to puzzle out the peculiar girl before him. She had curly red- no; orange hair that flowed free down to the small of her back that rustled in the breeze like it had a life of its own. She was as pale as pale could be, which was the height of fashion, but her porcelain skin was marred by constellations of freckles over the bridge of her nose, down her cheeks, and onto her neck. He supposed that her forehead was thus marked, but it was obscured by a large hat, a bright green men's top hat, to be precise, which was the most peculiar work of haberdashery he had yet to lay eyes on. The whole ensemble was topped off by a sooty dress that was at least a decade old and the bluest pair of eyes he has ever seen. He brushed his dark hair back out of his eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Hightopp."

She squinted back at him for a moment, then abruptly turned on her heel and walked deeper inside of the mansion.

"Wait!" he called, jogging after her, "you shouldn't be here, it's dangerous!"

"Okay!" she called back, rolling her eyes. "You should probably get back to where it's nice and safe, then."

She picked her way through the wreckage, thanking her lucky stars she hadn't chose to wear a corset that day.

"Clues... Clues..." she muttered under her breath. The one thing she knew for sure was her mother had been there, either before or after it burned. Hopefully not during, she mused, climbing over the charred remains of her grandmother's favorite side table. She spun around and faced Jacob, who was only a few steps behind her by then.

"If you lost everything in your entire house all in one day, where would you go?"

"Um... To my family?"

"Fantastic!" She shouted, startling some crows on the other side of the estate. "Aunt Margret!"

* * *

A/N: Hey kids, it's been a while, huh? (pleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillme) Well, here you have it the next (moderately anticipated) chapter of Charlotte in Other World! Huzzah!

The next chapter is a toughie, so bear with me, k? Sorry that this is taking so long... I'm easily distracted. *shrugs* I promise to have it up moderately soon. Until then, hit the review button, you know you want to.

-ORAWD


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